We planned to walk to our appointment, but the air is bitterly cold so we allow half an hour to find a parking space at the hospital. It's already snarled up and chokka block when we get there. My husband says he knows a place not too far from where we need to be where you can park for free for 2 hours. I’m sceptical and scathing - I hate being late....but he’s right and we are 10 minutes early.
Our lovely clinical psychologist says we are both stuck in an old script - and associated feelings - which was there pre-diagnosis, where we take on unhelpful roles of critical mother and resentful child.....I have an image of being tangled in a fish net - my fins snared in the ropes - still under water but not swimming anywhere....
I like this man and his powerful listening......I feel lighter when we leave - buoyed up with the thought that we can still make a future together even if it’s not the one I fantasized about.....and the future starts with how to be now and now and now....
Lying on red towels on the massage bench, I gasp with an OUCH when our lovely chiropracter judders a little machine into the knotted muscles down my spine. I feel like a pavement being drilled....
She says all my locked up tension is the result of years of chronic stress.....
Tonight bashing out the glistening ruby red seeds of half a pomegranate with a wooden spoon I marvel at how easily they fly out, splashing the plate with their juice, and leave their creamy beehive cells completely clean - as if they’d never lived there......
I’m wondering if a few emotional jolts and jabs will help me on this slow healing path....to release the juicy gems of my Self that wants to swim upriver....
PS Thank you Nigella Lawson for the pomegranate wooden spoon bashing tip.....
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